


La douleur exquise

by perryvic, Zaganthi (Caffiends)



Series: Emotional Intelligence [7]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Arguing, Arguing pointlessly with your ex, Falling In Love, Family, Fix-It of Sorts, Lost Love, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Quatre Raberba's Uchuu no Kokoro | Space Heart, Rumors, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 16:27:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30024558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perryvic/pseuds/perryvic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiends/pseuds/Zaganthi
Summary: "I think you need to leave," Treize said, opening his eye. "Now is not the time.""I meant that he can't... He can't carry it all himself." Trowa looked startled where he was sitting beside Quatre's bed.However it was meant, that was not how Quatre was taking it; it seemed his younger companion had a whole well of memories to fall into given even the slightest push. "I'm sorry," he said even quieter than normal. "I'm sorry Trowa, I know I wasn't good enough to stop people dying. I thought if I tried harder this time would be different."
Relationships: Treize Khushrenada/Quatre Raberba Winner
Series: Emotional Intelligence [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2186436
Kudos: 3





	La douleur exquise

**Author's Note:**

> La douleur exquise -- the wonderful pain of loving someone you cannot have

"Holy shit. Hey! Hey, bring two stretchers, this is definitely them!" There was a voice cutting through his ears, a voice he recognized, even as he was slouched sprawled beside a familiar warmth. "Quatre! Quatre man, can you hear me?" Little rocks pelted him, a soft weird rain, and he heard running.

It felt a little like that was all that was left of him. "Shit. Shit shit..." Anxiety and stress and strain, and Duo was beaten up but healthy, everything ached in a good way as he staggered down the hillside toward him. More gravel and dirt rained down, and then he felt someone taking his hand gently, fingers sliding to the inside of his wrist. "C'mon, have a pulse, I can't take any more of this bullshit...not from you Quat, c’mon..."

He tried really hard to open his eyes then because the empathic connection flared with the touch of skin to skin practically shouting out DuoDuoDuo as he flooded him with his awareness and energy. Frantically he tried to rein it back in, sending apologetic feelings at him.

"Holy shit!" Duo jerked back, and he heard a gasp from the other pilot. "Yeah, get down here with the stretchers. Quatre is definitely alive. Let's see if the General asshole is breathing..."

Treize, he had to know if Treize was okay too, and the others. He could feel Treize there but that didn't tell him if he was well. Little by little Quatre managed to get enough energy together and cracked open his eyes. The light stabbed at his head and he took a deep breath feeling heady. "Duo." It wasn't very loud but it was there.

It was getting dark out, and it still hurt his eyes despite the setting sun. There was still smoke in the sky, and he wondered what was burning. Duo shifted, crouched beside him carefully, a hand on his left shoulder, over the g suit. "Hey buddy. Yeah, it's me. You look pretty beat to hell -- that was some amazing piloting."

"You're okay?" he asked instinctively, wincing a little as Duo got close to an injury there. He had to think a moment and then realized the wet sticky patch there beneath the g suit was where he had been shot.

How many hours ago now? It felt like a lifetime ago. Was it even the same day? "Yeah, I'm okay. We're all okay, and holy shit, Marquise is alive. And Relena's okay, she was sort of a badass, her and Sally and Dorothy. Everyone's at the hospital, because OZ had it secured, and we know it didn't take any structural hits."

"Treize? You need to... get him there," Quatre said trying to convey urgency. "Had long term concussion before this and had to transit space without a suit." The effort of saying that left him virtually panting. "Others... injuries?"

There was dirt sliding again, and the noise of other people. "Minimal. We're all pretty hale and hearty, okay, so stop worrying about us." He leaned back a little, still touching Quatre's shoulder lightly. "Yeah, get Quatre first."

"Treize... please?" he asked. Had the fight been that long that it had been the whole day? John would be mad at them for not resting.

"Buddy, I promise, he's going up next, but this slope kinda sucks and you're closer. And if he's brain damaged, ten minutes more laying out here on a nice day ain't gonna make it worse."

He heard coordination, people speaking Sanc, and then there was a friendly EMT leaning over him to put a collar on his neck. "We're going to pick you up and put you on the stretcher now."

He heard, very quietly, a muttered "Tabarnak." Or maybe he felt it, it was hard to be sure. 

"Okay," he said now unable to turn his neck. "Um. I was shot earlier before this? I think it's been bleeding." He heard the familiar voice and relaxed a little.

Swearing meant breathing, meant brain cells connecting. "Okay. Just stay still. Does anything hurt?"

"Yes." he said because it did. "Mainly electrical burns." The hit that had smashed Sandrock's shield resulted in him being hit by a massive electrical discharge down his right side. He was pretty sure that was why everything felt so unresponsive. Electrocution was a common injury for a pilot.

"Okay. Just breathe in, and --" Being moved hurt; it ached and it made everything that was wrong with his body sing out. But they settled him down quickly, and Duo was in his line of vision, pacing while they worked.

He didn't expect to feel when Duo kicked the side of Treize's thigh, idly and maybe a little angry. 

Quatre gasped a little in shock as much as pain. "Duo, no.." he tried to say. He must have left himself too linked but he was too exhausted to unlink.

He wasn't sure what being entangled like that would do, but he needed to focus to unwrap it all.

It got his attention, and Duo came over to the stretcher with an urgent expression on his face as the EMTs lifted him up. "What? What's up?"

"It hurt when you kicked, please don't," he babbled as they started to lift him away. He had a horrible feeling the hospital was not going to go well for him if he couldn't control his reactions.

He needed to pull himself in, instead of touching every fresh horror. There was no way to protect himself, no way to close in enough...

They loaded him into an ambulance, and it started to drive away immediately, but he could still distantly feel Treize coming around to pain and confusion, from the earlier peace of unconsciousness.

He tried hard to wrap him in reassurance that he was fine, and encourage him to relax which was not easy to do when you were not particularly relaxed on your own.

The paramedics were talking in jargon that ordinarily he could follow but today seemed beyond him as they started to try and examine the wounds a little bit before he got there.

Oh god, the hospital was going to be worse than bad -- going into an ER after an attack. He started to panic a little internally but how did he explain that?

He couldn't, it was impossible, and then he felt that tugging, that tightness that was too much at first, like when Treize had yanked him up from falling into Duo's memories. And then it lessened, to something like a heavy blanket thrown over him, weighting his instinct down even as the EMTs offloaded him right into the middle of a very active ER, full of injured soldiers and civilians.

So much better than it could have been, even if the impacts were there, they had been wrapped in a mental cotton wool that muted the sharp edges. An acute stabbing became a dull ache and he could handle that. He had handled worse.

He had handled worse so many other times, and he could loiter, exist. They moved him to a bed, and time slipped a little bit, but he felt the comforting heavy weight on his mind, while doctors touched him, and pulled him out of his uniform, stuck him with needles and infusions.

Quatre couldn't do much else, he was in a soft limbo of sensations and slow molasses type of transitions from one moment to the next. He had no idea how bad it was, but he was sure he would live, but he just wanted Treize to be okay.

* * *

Against all the odds, he continued to live.

The most pressing concern had been to try to keep Quatre reined in, safe in a place that had to be hell for an empath. He wasn't fond of the place on his own, and he was struggling to maintain his cool, his calm, because it was the only way he could maintain that contact on Quatre. He couldn't give in to his own anxiety or pain, he had to focus and it was causing him more discomfort, because he didn't think he'd ever done it for that long before.

Worse, he knew he'd lost consciousness and let it slip. He wasn't sure how long he'd been there, and he hadn't been able to focus long enough to manage anything like good communication, because it was easier to stay below the surface and just flex that control, to help Quatre stay calm and comfortable.

But eventually, the world started to resolve to something coherent, and he could manage both at once. The walls were the same, the paint, the decor, and he remembered everything vividly and couldn't, could not. Couldn't give in to the despair that was just there, flowers and blood on the floor, the hospital bed sheets. The back of Vingt's head.

He'd missed it by 15 minutes. And Sanc had fallen anyway.

Instantly, he could feel that gentle lift of energy, not taking anything away, but stopping him from spiralling down the rabbit hole and unless Quatre had learned to do that in his sleep, he was conscious and nearby somewhere.

Treize pushed himself semi-upright, palms of his hands against the sheets, taking a moment to ground himself in the sensation of fabric, the flex of muscles, the needles, tape that pulled at his skin, the beeping of heart rate monitors. He held still until the world oriented a little more, and then opened his eye to look around.

It was a relief to see Quatre surrounded by pillows in the bed next to him, nearer the door.

Quatre seemed to be hooked up to transfusions or IV's of some type and there was a lingering drawn expression but that seemed to melt away as he opened his eyes to meet his own look.

"Hey," he said as if he had chosen something of one syllable because that was an effort in itself.

He swallowed, and gave Quatre a thumbs up while he searched for his voice, and then looked around for something to drink that he might be able to reach. "Okay?" There was a pitcher of water, and no glasses nearby, and that was the standard sort of irony that he fully expected in the middle of a crisis.

"I'm fine," Quatre answered. He looked a little emotional but that was the pilot all round. "I'm so glad you're alive!"

He was. He really was glad, in a strange deep way that was beginning to feel familiar to him. Treize nodded, and swallowed again, lifting a hand unsteadily to rub bandaged fingers against the side of his head. Not bad, only looked like a little frostbite, and he'd survived that before with everything intact. "How do you feel?"

"They've given me drugs, I'm a bit floaty," Quatre said with a smile that did admittedly look a little drugged. "I'm okay though. I think."

He felt weirdly drug free, because everything was aching, and his head felt thick, fuzzy as he checked himself, trying to keep the net of control over Quatre at the same time. "Any news?"

"We succeeded in defending the colonies and Earth," Quatre replied. "There were...casualties, the hospital was full. We had another in with us but..." His gaze dropped, telling the whole story in that one movement.

Most people didn't survive a crash. It was traumatic, crush injuries were horrible, and on release from the mech, most soldiers died; electrocution often led to a quick death or compartment syndrome; or a power core cracking resulted in radiation sickness.

It was a grim fact. Quatre didn't see it that way. "I'm sorry."

"It is not your fault," Quatre answered. "You were pure genius. We should not have survived but we did because of your piloting."

He leaned back in the bed, watching Quatre. It didn't feel like genius; it felt like second hand, it felt like breathing, and it felt like something he was probably never going to do again. "You saved my life. Again."

"You saved mine quite a few times," Quatre countered. "I was..useless after the shield broke." He smiled slightly. "Under other circumstances the tight squeeze might have been pleasant." 

He closed his eye for a moment. "It can be very pleasant." Had been more than a time or two, and he inhaled, trying to focus. To stay alert. "Suspect my pilot days are behind me now."

"They anticipate that for most of us," Quatre agreed. "I listened to what they were saying. Your concussion is worse again, to no one's surprise, you have decompression sickness - to everyone's surprise and bruising and so on."

He opened his eye, and looked at Quatre again, focusing. "Why would decompression be a surprise? Did it get you when you let me in?"

"They were initially not aware that you had gone for a space walk without a suit," Quatre chuckled slightly. "They thought I was delirious when I was trying to tell them. My suit protected me more so that I didn't get any serious signs."

"I know my head hurts and everything feels thick. But how else would I get into a different gundam while in my service uniform?" There was a lack of logic there, but he also knew how lucky he was. He should have been dead out there, for a second time. "Nevermind. How are you?"

"I'm okay," Quatre replied. "Lost a lot of blood." He said that a little too upbeat for it to be anything but drugs. "I think everyone was a bit shaken up by the close call."

He was sort of jealous of what drugs it might be. "How long's it been?"

"A couple of days I think," Quatre said. "I was a little hazy about things to start with so it might be longer."

"Okay." He closed his eye again. The negotiations were shot, and there were hopefully few dead among the useful delegation team members. He needed to... work out how to salvage it, to not lose the work they'd done.

He heard the door creak open in a slow way that wasn't a doctor or someone who worked there bustling about. "Quatre."

03, of the quiet intense looks and pre-existing connection. Quatre was open about quite a few things with him but the subject of Trowa often sent him into an introspective funk. Still, he responded with a happy, "Trowa!" as the other pilot entered.

Treize cracked his eye open, and decided that perhaps it was better to not watch them, to give them the small amount of privacy that he could, since leaving the room wasn't an option.

"It's good to see you." There was a rustle of something, a gift perhaps. He could really amuse himself if he just sat there and tried to match sounds to visuals that he wasn't watching. "You were unconscious earlier."

"I had to have a lot of pain meds," Quatre replied. "Oh... thank you Trowa! What a thoughtful gift!"

There was a soft ruffle of wrapping, tissue paper; Treize imagined that it was underwear, and in his brain it morphed into a sort of lingerie. Quatre would look good in grey, perhaps.

"A book will definitely pass the time," Quatre said. He could hear the smile in his voice. "The Night Circus - that seems rather apt."

Damn. He kept his eye closed and tried very hard to not imagine what a night circus could look like, which ended up putting it to the forefront of his mind. Silks and satins seemed necessary, and a tent... "I think you'll like it. I know you'll be here for a few more days. Dorothy has kept me busy trying to salvage the negotiations."

"Has the ...document helped at all?" Quatre said and he could feel the guilt that he wasn't there present getting it all to work. "Maybe I should make some notes..."

"Dorothy would like the author to work with her in the new government. She's running." Of course she was running, she had been groomed for it since day one.

Quatre hesitated at that. "She will do well. And what are you going to do Trowa?" he asked, taking a different tactic.

"I'm planning on working with the Preventers, for a while. Anne is picking up the standard for this, with Noin. And Zechs."

Apparently he had slept very hard indeed.

"They've embraced that concept at least," Quatre said and it sounded like he was half muttering to himself. "Zechs is joining though? I wasn't sure which way that would go, if Noin would go to him or..."

"He's talking about Mars. That's... underpoliced, the frontier there. Noin... will probably go with him." Oh. Fuck. Of course she would, but there went the one thing he had been leaning on, the one colonel he could safely turn things over to as they worked to disarm and reorganize.

"That will leave OZ with a big gap to fill." Quatre said. "As I know the eventual intention was for Noin to end up in charge after things had safely transitioned." Treize wasn't sure he had ever actually said that out loud, but then Quatre knew things, and patterns like other people breathed.

Quatre had spent a great deal of time in Treize's head, and sometimes he wondered how much of himself Quatre had in there. Trowa was quiet for a moment. "What will you do?"

"I don't know," Quatre said. "Whatever needs to be done to make this peace happen I suppose. I've got to make it work."

Yes. Now wasn't the time to quit. "Will you come to the preventers, or... join Dorothy?" He wasn't even aware that something had changed, but he supposed the council were accustomed to making decisions without him and telling him by fiat what he needed to do about their decisions.

"I… Dorothy is a difficult subject for me. You know what she said," Quatre answered his voice going quiet again. What was that about?

Treize tried to reach out, focusing on the calm net he'd thrown over Quatre as Trowa answered. "I know. She... got it wrong. You take on too much for yourself. You can't fix everything. Sometimes, you shouldn't. Like now."

There was a pause then, silence. "You don't think I should be involved at all." There was a painful thrill of confirmation to a secret hurt Quatre had held to himself.

It was a bad conversation for Quatre to be having on drugs. They seemed to be having a depressive effect now - unusual for opiates but it could happen because his mood was all over the place and Trowa was normally the one that brought him up.

"I think you need to leave," Treize said, opening his eye. "Now is not the time."

"I meant that he can't... He can't carry it all himself." Trowa looked startled where he was sitting beside Quatre's bed.

However it was meant, that was not how Quatre was taking it; it seemed his younger companion had a whole well of memories to fall into given even the slightest push. "I'm sorry," he said even quieter than normal. "I'm sorry Trowa, I know I wasn't good enough to stop people dying. I thought if I tried harder this time would be different."

"Quatre, you're not, you just can't expect to fix everything. It's not possible. Your heart is too big." Trowa started to stand up, looking sad and lost.

"He's on pain medication. Please leave." Treize didn't want to see if he could stand up yet, but if 03 didn't go and take his weird knifelike skill for hitting Quatre's pain points with him, he was going to have to try.

The sad and lost feeling was feeding into Quatre's own and because he cared so much for Trowa it hurt him all the more. He looked ghost white then, looking up at the other pilot, half desperate for something from him, but they were all coming at each other from different angles.

"I... I'm not feeling right," he stuttered out. "I'm sorry Trowa, thank you for the gift."

"You're welcome." Trowa felt confused, Quatre felt it, and Treize felt it, closing his eye tightly to that feeling. He wondered if he was influencing Quatre the other way, accidentally turning him tired and morose. But he'd been nearly giddy before Trowa had come in. "I'm sorry. I'll talk with you later."

"I'd like that," Quatre answered and he had wrapped his arms around his body tightly, defensively as Trowa left, and seemed to be concentrating hard on breathing as if he could lose control and go into a panic attack.

The door closed with a heavier noise in Treize's head than it did in reality and shifted slightly. "What can I do for you."

"Nothing, nothing, it's just the drugs," Quatre replied morosely. "I'm not good on them sometimes. Mood swings." It was the truth but only part of the truth.

He sat still, watching Quatre, and half calculating how to unravel himself from the vast system of tubes, cuffs and, oh, catheter, that would be unpleasant coming out. "And?"

"Guilt." He looked back up at him. "You probably know, but I thought I'd killed Trowa. Nearly did. Killed a lot of people on a Zero induced rampage and tried to kill the people I was closest to. The colonies had killed my father and I built Wing Zero in a haze of anger and bitterness." 

"It was a beautiful machine." He thought about Epyon, letting his mind blank a little. "Still serves Heero well. Your grief and your anger created something necessary."

"You don't understand, I stepped into zero not even really knowing it existed," Quatre said, meeting his eyes. "You of everyone might have an idea what that means. It proved... devastating. The scientists were very clear in their judgement it was my... unsuitability as a pilot that caused it. Caused me to murder my closest friend or so I thought."

"The scientists were monsters who sought child soldiers. The zero systems have driven every pilot mad but myself and Chang Wufei. What do you take from that?"

"That you are better than I am," Quatre said as if stating a fact. "Dorothy was wearing zero when we fought and she told me everything, all the deaths, the way the war had gone and what everyone had been forced to do was down to me. Zero is many things but it doesn't lie."

"I'm not better than my cousin; I'm not better than Mirialdo. It says that we've already broken," Treize corrected. "Wufei broke when we destroyed his colony twice in one day, killed his wife. I can't pick a moment. Use a dartboard. So tell me how you went back in time, became Dekim Barton, and murdered Heero Yuy. If you're responsible for it _all_."

Quatre laughed. "I'll probably find out I did do that knowing my luck," he said. He sighed. "I'm okay, I shouldn't even really talk about it. I know it's not rational and the drugs but I could feel him and it was like someone shouting in my ear over and over not to do any of it, not to be involved and to just back off, I wasn’t needed."

"He wants to save you from losing yourself to it. For you to have a different life." He closed his eye for a moment. "What would you do?"

"I don't know." Maybe that was the problem. "I'm a POW officially. I don't have options. My sisters are running Winner enterprises well, in the Winner family samples are taken as a matter of course, so they can breed another generation of heir. I'm not necessary there."

"I think, given how Trowa is talking, your status might be changing. I don't know." He rubbed fingers against the side of his head, trying to will the ache down a little. "I'll be the last to find out. Or they're rearranging it."

"I just… need not to make any decisions when I'm half fried," Quatre murmured. "I don't think I can.”

"No. You saved the earth. Again. You should rest and celebrate." He was tired, but if he lost consciousness entirely again his control would slip. Did it work if he was dozing?

"It's okay," Quatre replied but it looked like celebrating was the last thing on his mind. "The sooner you rest up, the sooner we get out of here."

"I'll get myself discharged against medical advice again and we can slink home." He offered it slyly, thinking of Quatre resting in front of the fireplace, and then he added an absurd bearskin rug, no, tiger, and Quatre naked on it. It might get a laugh out of him if nothing else. 

It worked; he laughed at the absurdity of it, at least. "Get some rest Treize. With any luck and with your concussion you won't remember any of this."

"You wish." Treize managed a smile, shifting to lay back in the mattress. Everything hurt, and his head was killing him. "Whatever they decided. You're always welcome with me." Quatre deserved better than how they treated him; he deserved a place in the world and he wouldn’t expect that place to be with him, but he could offer it at least.

* * *

Whenever Quatre thought back on what Trowa had said and his reaction, he felt a scarlet flush of shame and embarrassment. He didn't do well on painkillers, never had done well and what a pathetic idiotic confession he had made. And poor Trowa, he just seemed to have the knack of hitting all his sore points somehow.

They'd been dosing him because the pain of others in the hospital had affected him and ended up with him being given more than normal because they could tell from the readouts something was happening, though he never asked for more medication. This time of night, it was calmer but... yeah, not completely devoid of pain.

It was hard to avoid pain in a hospital, and Treize slept and dozed a lot. When he dozed, he seemed to keep a grip on whatever he was doing to help him manage, but when he slipped into a deep sleep, it faded away, and all of the pain of others surged up.

They needed to talk about it sometime, the connection, what they were doing, but Treize seemed to delight in it still, thinking funny things at him as much as he could manage.

That made it easier to handle because if Quatre really thought about how much he had changed in a month he would start to get terrified. He was intensely grateful to the other man and wanted to show him that somehow, because he knew Treize was making a lot of effort for him and it should be the other way around.

He was mulling on that when the door creaked open; it was so late that for a moment he went tense, and then Duo's obvious shadow snuck in, even if he was in OZ uniform again. The braid wasn't even half hidden. "Hey."

"Duo," he smiled genuinely and tried to sit up. His side was aching though, so he made a bit of heavy weather of it.

"Hey man." Duo grinned and closed the door behind him, setting down in the chair by Quatre's bed. He reached for his hand. "Sorry. It's been fucking crazy. How're you been?"

"I'd say okay, but I've been ridiculous on the drugs," Quatre said, taking his hand and managing not to have a massive overreaction. "I think Trowa thinks I've gone crazy."

"You kind of took a really hard landing, and I have no idea how you both fit in Sandrock's cockpit. That was some crazy piloting. So, you know. You get a few days R&R, and no one gets too weird about your recuperation. Yeah? Yeah. Even Heero came by to see you, but you might not remember. The drugs are kinda amazing."

"Heero?" He was half glad he'd missed that and then half upset he had. "I am surprised about that. " He was very glad Duo was there though.

"Yeah. You were completely out of it, and Khushrenada asked where his daughter was and then passed out again. I kept thinking about coming down to visit you, just because it seems like kind of a fun sport," he teased.

Quatre smiled again, but could feel the definite worry and anxiety beneath the happy-go-lucky exterior. "I'll try to be more entertaining in future," he said. "Maybe Trowa could teach me some circus tricks."

If he ever wanted to see him again after his emotional overreaction. Rationally he knew that Trowa didn't have anything but his best interests at heart but somehow he just couldn't seem to get it right. "Maybe." Duo was looking at him a little perceptively, maybe too perceptively, he wasn't sure. "Lots going on right now, I kind of feel bad that you're missing out."

He shrugged and regretted it as his left shoulder hurt. "Turning into a pattern," he said, bringing up a smile with a little effort. "What am I missing out on?"

Duo's mouth compressed, and he gestured with his chin over to the other bed in the room. "Noin is going to resign her commission."

"Because of Zechs," he nodded, feeling a tension in Duo. "Treize is definitely asleep by the way." Quatre could feel everything from the rest of the hospital but he was getting better at blocking on his own as well.

"Talk of going back to Mars. Apparently that's where Howard disappeared to, too. Man, I freaking miss Howard. Except droit du..." Duo waved a hand, leaning an elbow on his knee. "Anyway, they don't want me leaving earth, and I guess the boss man there has the right of first refusal."

He didn't want to think of Duo leaving as well. It felt like they were all leaving and a pang of that might have leaked a little. "Do...you want to go?" he asked, trying to sound normal. He needed people, he knew he did - it was a constant tension between too little and too much.

"Nah. I mean, I'm not allowed to leave earth, so it's OZ or probably Relena. I hacked the OZ mail server to see if he's the real deal like you said, and you know what? Fucker writes everything in French. Has for months, back before the war ended. Best fucking encryption I've ever seen, translation programs don't do well with the shit native speakers do to their own language." He scuffed his own hair, looking at Quatre. "I mean, you'd forgive anything, so you gotta be straight with me. Are you okay here?"

"With Treize? Yes, he's… different to how I expected," Quatre said. "I admit, I was really worried at the start. I tried not to be but I was nervous and on edge and then the whole thing where he nearly died and there was a part of me that thought afterwards if he had, I probably would have followed in an unpleasant way. Then my abilities went crazy and...I was terrified again I was going to end up in a lab because he got taken out by them several times and... no, he's just interested in it, but been concealing it as well. He is different though, Duo, I don't know how to explain it."

"But..." Duo exhaled, and leaned completely forward, studying Quatre's face. "I mean Noin was great. Are you okay with me crashing your psychic friends party or whatever the hell?"

He actually laughed a little at that. "Duo, I want to have a... psychic friends party with you as well, but we need more time than we've had." He impulsively leaned towards Duo too, brushing lightly over his lips in a kiss that left a blaze of that gold feeling energy as an invitation.

He felt Duo perk up a little, lifting his eyebrows at him. "Oh wow. That's... kind of new. But you should be resting."

"I am. When I am rested I want to be able to help you. I'd help any of the others if they would let me too, but..." He gave a lopsided shrug. "I'm not sure where I am with some of them. Wufei is avoiding me and.." There had just been a little hint of something from Trowa that made him wonder.

"Quatre? I don't... I mean, help is great. I'm not saying no to help. But that's not why I want to come here if, you know, cyclops over there says yes. You're my friend." He nodded at Quatre, trying to convey something pure and simple.

It took him a moment to get it and he felt himself beaming suddenly. Someone who actually wanted to just be around him for the sake of being around him? Now that was a gift. "That… means a lot to me Duo," he said. He didn't say that if not for Treize he would have felt almost entirely alone. It was usually him reaching out to the others, making those connections, trying to make them a team. It very rarely worked in reverse.

"Okay. Good. That's that sorted." He grinned, and bumped his hand against the edge of the bed. "When do you get out of here?"

"I'm hoping tomorrow if Treize is well enough," Quatre answered. "I'll be honest, I only appear so bad because I'm in a hospital." The bullet wound had scored a deep track through his arm but that had been easy to start healing. Bruises, well he had no doubt Duo was black and blue as well -- that was all part of the pilots way. The after effects of the electrical charge were worse and it was getting better.

He swore it was getting better. Just burns, and it was all outpatient stuff in his opinion. "Okay. I think the other 'adults' will have their collective shit together tomorrow and we'll have some idea what we're doing. They've sort of been scheming." He waved a hand slightly. "But the colonies want to talk with him there, so Relena's been punting around like two more days of meetings. Which is great, unless he's fried."

"No, he worsened his concussion from before using Zero, but he managed to pilot us back here and fight before we crashed. That wasn't his fault," Quatre said. "But given half a chance he'd like to retire I think."

"Like retire tomorrow, or retire a year from now?" Duo was making eyebrows and faces, and Quatre could only guess, without connecting to him, what information he had been sneakily privy to.

"Whenever he can, as long as he is sure things won't fall apart," he replied. He could still sometimes feel Treize's wistfulness at not having died in battle as he planned. And now his occasional shock was that he'd survived the latest battle as well.

"So that'll be next neverday." Duo grinned at him. "And you're just going to stick to the same, huh? Until things are fixed."

"I guess so. I haven't been told that we have a choice," Quatre said. "But...I had the opportunity to shape how things could work."

"Someone proposed procedures for release of the PoWs after the election, but no-one's voted on it because no one's voted yet. Noin formally filed it for review tomorrow, along with the booting soldiers under 16 paperwork. So, three guesses what shop it came out of. And it got everyone thinking today, about the future. About what we're all gonna do."

"What are the others doing then?" Had his reaction to Trowa ruined that connection? Heero had made it all too clear what his focus was and Wufei... He was always about keeping things close to his chest.

Always secretive; not on purpose, just out of habit, because there was no one to share with. Not actively lonely, but alone. Sometimes Quatre thought all of them were so very alone, in the end, all islands that bumped into each other occasionally. "Trowa wants to join the preventers, once it's more than an idea. I think Wufei will, and Sally. I might, eventually. Heero... is kinda a mess and I think he'll stay with Sanc."

Quatre nodded. "I wish he'd let me help him, but I don't think he trusts me because I was taken by OZ," he said. That was all he could think of to explain things. "I haven't got close enough to really know."

"Dude, it's not you. He's hardly talked to any of us. It's just..." Duo scooted in his chair, twisting it so it was backwards and he could lean into it. "Relena's got him going to therapy. For real."

That was a revelation. "Oh." He felt foolish then. "I didn't understand why he wouldn't tell me where Sandrock was. But his going off plan makes more sense."

"Oh, no, you're right, that one? That was all OZ paranoia, which is crazy because it's not like they didn't come with their own mechs. But he kinda considered the Gundams sacred." Duo leaned his chin on the back of the chair.

He sighed a little. "I just hoped he knew me a bit better than that. It was...uncomfortable with him thinking of me as one of them, rather than one of us."

"You sort of wrote their policy paper for them," Duo pointed out. He was clearly tired and squirming, fighting it by fidgeting. "You mind if I call it a night here? I'm sharing a suite with Noin, and honest to god, I'm a third fucking wheel."

"Of course you can, there's a bed here but...you look tired Duo," Quatre said, realizing he had literally turned up in the middle of the night having been turned out of his own room. "And Treize and I aren't using our suite if you prefer that."

"Can I?" He just looked tired, and Quatre half wondered where Duo had sacked out the other couple of nights since everything had happened.

"It looks like you've been sleeping in Deathscythe," Quatre said, and gently stroked his hand a little. "The keycard is in the cupboard there. Have a good sleep, shower and rifle through our things." He smiled to show he was teasing.

"Aw, you probably don't even have cool stuff." Duo turned his fingers over and squeezed Quatre's hand. "Oh, wait. You guys have swords. That's kind of cool. Noin never had a sword for me."

"No stabbing people randomly. It hurts," Quatre warned. "Now go, you're exhausted, you need a good rest too. "

"Thanks." He pulled away to pull open the drawer and grab the keycard. "I'll come back in the morning to be moral, immoral support and help spring you guys. Change of clothes, yeah?"

"That would be fantastic. Treize does like to look the part," he answered. "You can have my share of the minibar."

"Not like you drink it anyway." Duo winked at him, and turned the chair back around. "I'll let you get back to sleep. Thanks."

He watched as the other pilot left, grateful for the distraction from the discomfort of being in the hospital. He would be glad when they could be released because somehow it felt like the world was moving on without them and...

Maybe Trowa had been right after all. Maybe he shouldn't be involved.

* * *

The morning went by rather well and quickly; the doctors ran scans, ran tests, and declared him something. Releasable if he were to rest and go home, which both was and wasn't his plan, because he knew his work in Sanc wasn't done.

It was nice, albeit unexpected, when Duo showed up with clean uniforms for both he and Quatre. Proper dress uniforms, so perhaps Duo had learned a few things with Noin.

Who was mysteriously absent.

Apparently Quatre had told Duo to use their suite as Zechs had practically moved in and was making up for lost time. Treize wasn't sure what he felt about that considering 02 had a very specific and personal reason to hate OZ and him specifically. And he still hadn't dealt with Zechs being alive, and whether it was the Zechs who had been his friend, lover, confidant for many years or Milliardo who had had some form of psychotic break and tried to doom them all.

But Quatre had seemed a lot happier and as they left the hospital he could visibly see the weight of pain fall away from him even if he was a little unsteady still he'd been told that the best way to get his nerves working properly again was to start moving around as normally as possible.

It had been what had worked best for Treize after his own shock, sort of forced functional retraining. He still had a fluttering twitch that set off in his left calf when he least expected it, and he imagined that Quatre was experiencing a range of fresh strange things in the aftermath of the damage he and Sandrock had taken together.

There was so much to do, and very little time to do it in. He had the two pilots go ahead back to the palace because there was something he needed to do first. He needed to see Mariemaia, as none of Quatre's visitors had given him a straight answer on how she was, and he had had no visitors of his own.

It turned out that tracking down Mariemaia took him to Sally Po, who accompanied him to a secure facility designed for pediatric mental health and behavioural issues. Apparently Sanc was not the pure fairy tale kingdom that the rest of the world imagined. People still had mental health issues, they still had illness and all the issues that troubled humanity.

It was brighter and more homey than he imagined such a facility would be, and it was clear that it was pitched towards children and it was definitely on the surface secure, though a trained soldier might find their way out.

Depending on how good a job Dekim had done, Mariemaia would find a way out.

Sally had been an interesting officer during her time in the Alliance, and she had taken career losses to save lives. She was loyal to Sanc, to the prospect of peace, and her people. It was... something to consider as he let the back of his mind sort out what to do about what was surely going to come from Noin. "I appreciate you taking the time to do this."

"It is no trouble," she said. "What Dekim Barton did to his own flesh and blood is unconscionable. I will have to be there with you - we don't know the precise nature of the triggers she has been programmed with but we have hope that as you managed to break her focus they hurried the process."

"I'd like to take her back at least to a facility in Luxembourg, if she's in a state to be moved." He would have to find one, but he could; leaving a deeply mentally unwell relative some distance away, in Sanc, ah, now how did that sound familiar? And here he was again, with the roles spun around. It made him feel miserable, and inclined to not see those mistakes repeated. "I'm not unfamiliar with the long term care or outlook of someone the world has treated poorly."

"We can look into that certainly," Sally replied. "However, the fact of the matter is that you - as the focal target might have to be introduced into her recovery carefully. At the moment, we are ensuring that she is safe, and calm and building up her expectations of routines and adequate food and rest." She exhaled a little as they were admitted through an almost airlock arrangement. "It is horrifying to say this but I believe in his efforts to rush the brainwashing along, in the last month or more all of the above have been sorely lacking."

"It's a common technique, and I've seen it before." There was a spot for him to disarm as well, a metal detector that went both ways, which he appreciated, and a bit of paperwork for his sword and sidearm, from an orderly who looked shocked to see him there. That Sally had a sidearm to check as well was... pragmatic. Heartening. "How old were you when you joined the alliance?" Had it been a career path, a way to become a medical doctor, or an option of no other resort, he wondered.

"I was an Alliance soldier - I was fourteen when I joined but that allowed me to become medically trained before I was 18. " Sally said. "I had a disagreement later in my career with a general that saw the medical path as my main option though I've not regretted it, I do sometimes miss being a soldier."

They walked along the wide airy corridor towards one of the rooms. "Here we are. I need to remind your Excellency, I will be watching her for warning signs. If I say leave, please leave immediately."

"Of course." Honestly if he was murdered by his own daughter, that he hadn't known he'd had, it would have been... strange, fitting somehow. Traumatic for her, of course, and after a moment he started to unbutton his uniform jacket to shrug out of the heavy thing before they got there, in case it and the cloak figured large in whatever training she had received. "My mother spent over a decade in a place like this, I do remember the rules."

She looked a little surprised at that but opened the door and went through gesturing for him to wait.

"Mariemaia sweetheart, you have a visitor. If you feel at all uncomfortable or stressed you tell me, and he will be happy to leave, understand?"

"Is it my...father?" he heard.

"It is your real father, Treize yes. Is it okay if he comes in?" Sally asked patiently.

"Y-Yes. You'll stay?" Mariemaia asked.

"Yes of course," and he was beckoned inside.

He left the coat and cloak on the floor outside the door, and came inside slowly, taking in the room, the feel of the place, the posture and body language of his daughter. She was slight, and her hair was the same shade of red as his own mother's had been, apparently having won out over Leia's softer blond hair. Her eyes were blue, and the worried set of her mouth, the leanness of her face reminded him of Vingt when he was having... a strained time. When he had worried that Vingt was next, and he had wanted to take the strain of leading Romefeller off of his brother's shoulders.

If he claimed madness damn near galloped through the Peacecraft line, it certainly trotted through the Khushrenada line, leaving a certain... he didn't know what to call it in its wake. Fragility was the wrong word, but tendency was stepping around the problem. Predisposition to struggling under stress and strain, or perhaps it was a predisposition to throwing themselves headlong into stress and strain and then feeling shocked and betrayed that it was damn miserable.

"Hello, Mariemaia. It's good to finally meet you." 

"Hello...father," she said looking up to meet his eyes. For the first time he realized how useful having Quatre there with his semi permanent overflow of emotional textures to interactions could be. It sounded polite and pleasant and exactly the sort of thing he had been taught as he was growing as well about 'proper behaviour'. "I'm very sorry about a few days ago. I think it was a few days ago."

It wasn't fair to use Quatre as a crutch; he had his own instincts that were still perfectly good and useful. He walked closer, and crouched down to look her in the eye, as she was seated. He wondered if the eye patch he had on helped or hindered her training; and he wondered what kind of medications they had her on just then. She was so young. "It's been a long few days. You don't need to apologize for that, it was outside of your control."

"Okay." That was way too easy to be real. "Grandfather says...used to say you left me with him because you didn't want me." She was twisting a bit of cloth off her sleeve backward and forwards repetitively. "So it is strange you are here now."

"I didn't know you existed, Mariemaia." He could give her a history lesson, or he could wait, deal with it piece by piece at a level that was age appropriate.

"That's difficult to understand," she said, pulling at a thread with an intense focus. "Because I've been told that's not true all my life. Grandfather looked after me. He said you left me and my mother died because you left her. And that you were dangerous and wanted to destroy all the colonies and someone had to stop you and.."

"Mari, remember breathe," Sally instructed, cutting in.

He held very still, and reached out with care to put a hand lightly over her clasped fingers. "Easy. I don't have them with me, but I have pictures from when I was in L3, with your mother. I'd broken my back, my unit left me there for a few months so I could get better. Would you like to see pictures of your mother?" Distract, deter, deflect.

"Yes." He was right with that instinct. Her mother had been built up as some victim or paragon or something from her reaction. She looked curiously at his hand as if it belonged to something alien, tilting her head. "Do you want to kill me?"

He tilted his head, and said very honestly, "No. I want to take you home with me, and give you the upbringing you should have had all along, except you need more help and attention right now than I'm capable of. You need skilled doctors like Sally here."

"I'd like to go back to school. I went to a school on Earth but Grandfather took me out of school and I miss my friends," she said. Everything was a little careful as if she was having to concentrate to get the words out. "I was good at school. Everyone said I was very good and I liked it." She was avoiding the subject of doctors and going home, he could tell.

"What school did you go to?" On Earth, as if she wasn't quite aware she was on Earth just then. "We can have you write to your friends."

"The Saint Gabriel Institute in Sanc," she said and for a moment she seemed more animated and like the young girl she was. "My best friend is Lena, she's really good at sports. I was good too but Lena wants to be an athlete and go professional. She could too. I was better at other sports and I helped her with maths and science. I like science."

"You're in Sanc now." He was trying very hard to stay still, crouching, though it was an awkward position, because he didn't want to startle her. "When did you last see Lena?" It would be easy to find the girl and her parents, to reach out and ask them to write to Mariemaia.

"I'm not sure. I remember being at home for Christmas," she said and then looked a bit fuzzy. "I think I went back after Christmas...I..I don't remember. I remember the award giving but was that last year? My head feels strange."

He moved his hand instinctively, brought fingers up to gently touch the side of her head. "It will be okay." So who knew how many years of low key brainwashing, and then the intense work must have begun after he'd kicked off Operation Pleiades, after the colonies had launched Operation Meteor. Before Zechs had committed treason, late spring or early summer if she remembered an awards ceremony. "My head feels strange sometimes, too. It's not pleasant, is it?"

"No. I don't like not being able to think." She shook her head and then twined a bit of her hair around her fidgeting fingers. "Why does it happen to you?"

He stroked her hair briefly, and then backed off, setting his hand on the table where she could see it. "I was hurt in the war. Hit my head a couple of times, and got electrocuted." With his other hand he tapped the heavily decorated eye patch. "That's what's called a complicated concussion. I can't read in universal or English anymore, and it's... frustrating when you know you can do better than your brain is letting you, isn't it?"

She nodded vigorously at that. "I feel like I'm drowning slowly." And that hit him hard because Vingt had said that once.

He hesitated, wanted to hug her, because that hurt, viscerally; it didn't bode well for her in the long term, for escaping the family tendencies. "You won't drown. We won't let you."

"Who won't?" she asked, picking away at the thread again. "Who are you?"

He stayed very still, feeling a shift and also not wanting to abandon her wholesale just then. "Treize Khushrenada."

Her head snapped up and her eyes had shifted from unfocused to sharp and deadly and Sally immediately said. "Leave!" as she stepped forward to intercept the action he had triggered.

He'd seen it before she had, and he reluctantly reached, flexed the strange long forgotten thing that had been getting so much exercise recently, threw what he was thinking of as the harness on her, mentally yanked her up as gently as he could manage, knowing it was paralytic, even as he started to stand up slowly, shifting her to sit back in the chair. "No need to run, it just brings up the panic."

Sally looked perplexed as Mariemaia shifted and gently folded up. "What... let's go outside," she said, staring at him. She did manage to wait until they were outside until she said. "What did you do? Did you have drugs? I insist you tell me what you gave her!"

He bent to pick up his jacket and cloak from the floor, dusting them off with care now that the door was closed and secured again. His nose was bleeding a little, but he was getting much better at pulling someone up, he decided as he took his glove off to wipe at it, and let go of the control on Mariemaia. "No drugs, I gave her nothing."

"Then what was it? Patients do not just stop...and you are bleeding," She went from angry to doctor in a moment, very hastily getting out a pen light and testing his pupil reaction. "Are you a newtype?" she asked in a low voice having checked there was no one around.

He wasn't even sure what she was going to compare his pupil reaction to, but it was nice to be briefly blinded in his one damn eye. "After a fashion." Treize wiped his knuckles again against his nose, inhaling as if that would make it stop sooner. "I'll have to pass medical records from my side of the family so you know what you're dealing with. My brother was already quite... an impressive low cycling manic depressive by her age."

"That would be useful. But that was by far the most lucid interaction I've seen," Sally replied, getting him a tissue. "Here, use that. Those records would be helpful."

"I'll provide them." He took the tissue, wiped his knuckles off first, and then sighed and held it against his nose, looking through the glass window, where Mariemaia was sitting listlessly in her room. "Between my mother and my brother, one learns how to meet them in their own reality. I'm very uncomfortable leaving her here in Sanc, when I go back to Luxembourg." It felt like the easy route.

"I'll be honest, at this stage I'm not sure what to do for the best for her if school was a beneficial environment," Sally answered. "On the other hand, the whole world saw that incident so her peers might be...direct in their questions."

"Children are cruel." He dabbed at his nose; he wasn't even a very good newtype, if that was what he was, because he blew a blood vessel every time he really gave it a use. "What... would stability to move her look like to you?" If he'd managed to get the most lucid interaction out of her, then he couldn't just abandon her and check back in in a few months.

"We need to let her system clear naturally of the drugs they were using, and then we'll have a better idea of what we are dealing with," Sally answered. "After that, we might be able to move her. I don't dare prescribe anything at the moment unless she becomes a danger to herself."

"Wise." There was a lack of medical history, and unknown... everything that people usually had an idea of by then, never-mind the reactions one could have to the various antipsychotics and serotonin stimulators or inhibitors. "We have time to work all of this out." He shrugged his jacket on, starting to fuss with the buttons. His right hand was still weak, a little uncoordinated, but he could mostly cover it as long as he moved with deliberation, which he wasn't doing just then. "Noin is going to leave, and I can't keep doing this. While we're on topics we don't want eavesdropped on, how do you feel about a formal agreement between your forces and OZ as we both transition to peacekeeping?"

She had a moment of stunned silence. "You want to begin merging?" she asked as if he hadn't just proposed something that normally would have needed weeks around a negotiating table to establish.

"Yes." The edge of his mouth twitched up as he looked at her. "You know, we, OZ, tried to laterally transfer you after the L5 debacle. General Septem wouldn't let us."

"General Septem and I had words. I ended up as medical for a while," Sally said absently. "I've seen the anonymous plan, merging the two military arms does seem to make long term sense."

That was all right; he'd pushed Septem out of a moving aircraft, which was a very effective way to tie off a loose end. Lady shooting him as he plummeted through the sky had been... somewhat satisfying overkill. "We're both trying to not break the morale of either unit, but it..." He wiped at his nose again with the tissue, and looked down, concentrating on the hidden catches beneath the white placket. "I'm probably a year outside of ending up in a place like this myself if I keep this up. I can't do this on my own any longer."

"That is unusually frank of you sir," Sally replied cautiously. "Because it seems like you are not intending to end up as part of that force."

"Where do you see me fitting in a peacekeeping organization?" He lifted his head, straightened his jacket, and held her eyes. She had questions and cautions and curiosity, and he honestly had no flat reassurances to give someone he was looking to bring into his inner circle.

She didn't answer and that was a good sign because it meant she was actually thinking. After a long pause, she nodded. "In general principle I agree."

And that was a relief; it meant he might actually get some rest at some point.

"Excellent. I'll be in touch for that, then, and with family medical histories. See what my people can dig up on the Bartons." Other than Trowa's particular notoriety in society circles as someone who liked them young and quiet.

He attached the cloak to his uniform, and offered his hand. "I'll see myself out, Sally. Thank you."

She nodded looking a little stunned as she shook his hand and he supposed it hadn't been on her list of things to expect while dealing with his child. That he hadn't known about. She had probably expected a whole other type of conversation.

He wasn't sure what she'd expected -- demands? Ultimatums? -- but the human mind didn't work that way, and whatever Dekim had done to her had left Mariemaia damaged. She was family, it was quite obvious. She needed support, and he wanted to be involved, and somewhere in there was a balance that would work.

It was going to take much longer to unpick than it had taken to cause, and that was usually the way of things.

His driver took him from the facility back to the palace, and if he dozed on the drive, the man was polite and sane enough to not comment on it. There was some media fuss going on near the front entrance, and he watched it for a brief moment, unable to make heads or tails of it before slipping in through one of the servants doors. The place was a rabbits warren for security challenges; 01 had his job cut out for him, though he supposed there were cameras up now, where they hadn't been before.

He could have headed back to his rooms, to Quatre and presumably Duo were but he wanted just to draw a few lines under things. He decided in the end he had one other major bandage to rip off and it might as well be today.

That impulse saw him headed for Noin's suite.

Bad news didn't age like fine wine, and if he knew it was coming, he was in a mood and a level of exhaustion to push through and finish it all in one sweep. He didn't have a key, but he could knock, and hope he wasn't left standing out in the hallway like an idiot for very long.

The door was opened after a long pause by Noin who had obviously not long been in the shower, though she had managed to pull on some clothes at least. "Oh...General, I wasn't aware you were being released from the hospital so soon. I was intending to see you today after the meeting this afternoon."

"I was made aware from Quatre's visitors that you've all been moving on briskly in my absence. Meeting this afternoon?" he prompted, keeping his voice cool and easy.

"A general status one," Noin answered. "Sir, I have... Zechs here, do you want to come in or I could come and talk to you at your suite?"

She was at least trying to be a little considerate of him, but even so he felt a little ruffled.

His choices came down to stay calm and smooth and above everything, or be... an asshole. An ungracious asshole. "I now have two gundam pilots in my suite, so perhaps we can talk here about how that happened? " It wasn't as if he had never seen Zechs en déshabillé; so it was ridiculous to suddenly care now. "02 was sleeping in his gundam, which they're not even supposed to have access to. I'm sure I missed that meeting as well."

Noin grimaced and looked suitably chastised. "Come in sir," she said at least, picking up on the fact that this wasn't a time to be over familiar with him. "I take full responsibility, I allowed my judgement to become impaired and..."

"Treize, it's good to see you," Zechs' voice cut through her apology from where he was sitting lounging in a dressing gown. "Forgive my appearance. I was not expecting a trip to earth."

It seemed that he was wearing Noin's dressing gown, from how high it rode on his thigh, and it took him aback to see Zechs face to face, more than he had expected. He looked healthy, as gorgeous as he ever had. Untouchable, except for a very self aware smile. It made Treize feel every bit of his last few days in hospital, feel his constant headache, and every bruise from the battle and the crash.

"I'm sure your sister is glad to have you back on earth. She went to great lengths to plead with you in December." To beg him to take a saner stance, because Treize had not been about to beg.

"Yes, she did," Zechs admitted. "Though how glad she is to see me is debatable. Do you want to have this conversation now if you have just been released from the hospital?"

It sounded like the madness was no longer in him, but what did that mean?

And for how fucking long was it going to last? "Yes, because I seem to have gained a second pilot, and no one has talked to me about any of this." He turned his attention back to Noin, waiting for an answer from her because his business with Zechs had begun and ended with his declaration of war on earth, and his firing at an uninhabited pacific island to prove just how much he meant it.

"Then sit down," Zechs said annoyingly calm even as Noin looked much less composed.

"Sir, I take responsibility. I was...pleased to see that Zechs was not dead and he had nowhere to stay so I invited him to share, as Duo had the subsidiary room much as Quatre does. I was not aware that he had not been sleeping in that room as he said he was visiting Quatre or, Trowa and Wufei. He had proven trustworthy and had fought with exemplary conduct during the invasion attempt."

And Zechs was sitting there with a faint pleased smile on his face. 

"He brought me my uniform this morning because he's under the impression that he's now my responsibility because you're leaving OZ." He turned slightly, looking at Zechs and the ridiculous flowered black and blue robe, lifting an eyebrow at him. "To go to Mars. You have always moved fast, Mirialdo."

Zechs sat up a little at that. "That is a discussion that we have not finalised," he said glancing at Noin. "But I suspect this whole discussion is giving Noin reasons to leave."

The man was being frustrating; the conflicting emotions around seeing him alive when he should have been dead were becoming a dull roar in his ears.

And he could feel a faint warmth answering in the area over his heart.

It tamped down the rising frustration, because Zechs always had a way of putting him on the backfoot in a conversation, flooding out his calm and sense, as if everything was his fucking fault. Even now, everything was his god damned fault; he set his jaw tight and inhaled slowly, focused on Noin, waiting for her answer.

"I... haven't yet decided sir," she said sounding miserable, like a recruit he had torn a strip off rather than one of his inner circle. "Though, I must admit it is clear that my actions and decisions are compromised when it comes to Zechs."

"It is not her fault Treize," he said. "If anything it is mine. She did not ask for me to throw things into disarray."

A questioning pulse inside of him. Quatre was either more sensitive or he was approaching. Questioning if he wanted him, needed him there.

It was completely inappropriate, and appreciated at the same time. It certainly wouldn't look suspicious at all if Quatre were to show up. "I know you rejoined OZ because you were mourning him. I understand how happy you must be right now; if you leave for Mars, ESUN will find a way to manage." He could have used guilt, but it wouldn't gain anything useful, and he was tired, soul deep done, and there he was on the backfoot again, because if he pleaded with her, it wouldn't matter. It would only make her feel bad as she carried on regardless.

Noin looked torn, as if that quiet permission had made her reconsider options in a way she had not anticipated. "If I may sir, I will need to think through all the possibilities. "

He caught Zechs’ twitch of surprise at that.

"Noin..."

"Zechs, I need to think this through and so do you," she said firmly, more of the soldier he knew. "You know where my heart is, but we've lived through years of having to put the good of all over our own needs. If I make the decision to leave OZ, I want it to be for clear reasons that I won't regret. If I stay, it should be for the same reasons."

"Take your time. I know what you both sacrificed in pursuit of OZ's goals." He took a step backward, toward the door, glancing at Zechs. It was odd to feel heartsick just then, when he hadn't the first time everything had gone sideways. "Let me know if I miss anything important from this afternoon's meeting."

It was easier to leave, to give them the space and the silence. And if the four of them were determined to make decisions in his absence that he would have to fix afterward, that was fine.

He started to walk back in the direction of the room, only to find Quatre lurking and attempting to be nonchalant around the next corner. "Treize?" he said stepping towards him. "Are you okay?"

Was he okay? Treize managed a wry smile, mouth tugging against it, and said very softly, "No. But since it's not an option I'm allowed, I'm..." He was deeply at a loss, grasping for words and struggling. He was drowning, that was the exact feeling. "C'est la galère."

Quatre seemed to close his eyes a moment and then decisively pulled him over into an empty room a couple of steps up from where they were. Then he literally, carefully and gently wrapped his arms around him like he had that day in Luxembourg when he had broken down at the gesture. "I won't let you drown," he murmured and underneath it, his emotions gently reaching for his own hollow area's to stop him falling further.

It was a relief to let go, to let all the frustration rise up, and then fall away, the stress that he wasn't handling well, the anger as having been the one who had to stand still and hold it all together while everyone else moved on. And it was self indulgent weakness, which he hated giving in to.

Quatre just took it from him and let it somehow flow away, and his arms were around him gentle down his spine, his body tucked in against him as he knew he was safe there to let go of that resentment. All he wanted was to give up, to not have to row that fucking galley that was life like a prisoner anymore, but somehow someone seemed to keep pushing him back down at the oar.

He wasn't being allowed to give up, and he so badly wanted to. Needed to.

There was very little dignity in it by the time he calmed down, but he felt better for having gotten it out of his system, leaning harder into the shorter man then Quatre probably needed to deal with just then.

Quatre didn't flinch or move, he didn't pull back, just gently nuzzled the side of his neck. Before he might have pushed emotions at him but now he didn't do that, just linked them together and held. Physically and emotionally, he just stopped him going under, allowed him to catch his breath, and have space to be Treize, not the General or His Excellency.

"I think you need to have a long sleep," Quatre murmured. "I know you tried to stay awake longer than you should for my sake at the hospital. But it's okay here, and I'll be there to make sure you are safe so you can really rest."

He nodded against Quatre, and enjoyed the nuzzling. "I'm very tired, yes. How have you been? You shouldn't even be up and about."

"It's only a couple of floors, and Duo's been sleeping too," he said. "I was very good and rested when we got back, unlike you." He smiled a little against him. "Your turn now."

He wiped at his eye with the back of his hand, taking a steadying breath as he pulled away a little. "I saw Mariemaia."

"I should have been with you," Quatre said, not showing any signs of moving from staying in contact with him. "How was she and ..how was it for you?"

"She reminds me of Vingt." He was still trying to ground and pull himself together, and it wasn't a quick task, trying to get his breathing calmer. "I miss him."

"You do. " Quatre just acknowledged that, not trying to dismiss it or write it off. "He was your reason for many things as you grew up."

The reason to endure, to keep going, to protect, to fight...

And then after his death, the reason to keep working toward peace. A reason to keep putting up with everything he was facing. "She's going to need a great deal of help."

"Yes. We all are," Quatre said again without any hint of censure or judgement. "It's left its mark on everyone but at least we got to make some choices. She did not."

"Going to work to bring her back to Luxembourg. When she's more stable." Not fixed, not ready, just. Somewhat less likely to stab him if he sat still too long. He inhaled, and rubbed fingers at the bridge of his nose, his other hand idling down Quatre's back.

"Sounds like a good plan. Maybe when that's the case and I'm a bit stronger I could help a bit," Quatre said. "I don't know but I think brainwashing would leave the sort of unhealthy connections I can sever."

"We'll let you practice on healthier people first." Quatre felt very good against his body, warm and alive, and was he imagining that slight forearm twitch? No. And he felt drained, but less like he was drowning. He closed his eyes tightly for a moment, and added, "relatively. Thank you."

Quatre just responded with a kiss to the side of his neck. "Let's get you back to our room," he said. "You will feel better for rest and you didn't just see Mariemaia but you went to see Noin and Zechs too. Which must have been very hard."

He leaned into that kiss, let himself feel it. "Mm. Let's go upstairs. I'm going to bring Sally in to help carry the load when Noin inevitably leaves with him."

Quatre chuckled. "You move very fast for a man just out of hospital," he said as he gently pulled away and taking Treize’s arm wrapped it around his shoulder. "If anyone asks, I tried to go for a walk with limited success. "

"If anyone asks, I don't care today." He stretched his fingers, rubbing at Quatre's shoulder as they walked toward the door, and stepped into the hallway. It would probably be busy soon, and just as likely, no one was going to question him. They never did.

* * *

General Khushrenada was a fucking mess.

Duo had pretty much no other way to put it, and Quatre was kinda also a fucking mess, but he was a friendly fucking mess. One minute they'd been rummaging files, and the next he'd perked up, and taken off to go 'help Treize', and run off like a hunting dog.

It was super co-dependent and pretty gay. Plus, Quatre's bed hadn't been slept in.

Quatre hadn't denied anything, never did if you asked him a direct question like he owed the world the truth or something, but he'd come back with Treize and Duo wasn't stupid enough to believe the play acting of who was holding up whom, and then he'd watched as the other pilot pretty much tucked General disaster area into bed.

He'd leaned up against the door jam and just watched; and neither of them gave a shit, while Quatre unbuttoned those dumb buttons, and Treize's hands wandered, clearly mentally off somewhere else. He watched Quatre strip him down to his boxers, and then Duo was half sure that if he hadn't been standing there, Quatre would've joined him.

"If you need a nap, man, you don't have to hang around to entertain me," Duo commented quietly, still leaning there.

"I'm okay," Quatre said, fetching his painkillers with a sigh. "Wouldn't be able to go off right away at the moment anyway. He's going to sleep through from the feel of it. He needs to. He kept trying to stay awake in the hospital to help me."

Duo half lingered, watching Quatre disappear into the master bedroom. "Yeah. I kinda noticed. You seemed to be more whacked out in pain when he was asleep, and more coherent when he was sort of dazed and confused but around. You wanna give me a rundown on what the, so I know what a I'm covering up?"

Quatre returned, downing the pills rapidly. "Let's sit down. That did hurt a bit and my muscles are still unhappy at me," he said leading the way. "I'm not sure where to begin, what do you need to know Duo?"

"What's up, so no one spends any extra mental effort on pretending everything is super cool and sane. Cause clearly..." Duo shrugged, following him back into the sitting area. "It's not. And since the lovebirds are clearly taking flight..."

"I think Treize has guilt-tripped them," Quatre replied with a shrug. "From what he said they are considering options but he expects them to abandon him. Anyway, I'm trying to remember what I told you in the hospital, or what you took from it.I wasn’t at"

"I took away that you did your thing on him." Duo wiggles his fingers. "Space heart. And maybe because he's a head case, there's like... a lot going on. And you like him. I mean hey, I wasn't there. He's kinda hot, hot mess hot but hot."

Quatre chuckled a little. "Yeah. My...thing is different. I'm not sure what kicked it off, it might even be Treize himself, but it went out of control. When we talked that first time, I was terrified Duo. There I was a POW and I basically knocked out my jailor and then went on an unauthorised wander through a lot of his worst memories."

He flopped out on the sofa, and stretched his legs out in front of him. "And you said he was okay with it. Eventually."

"More okay with it than I was to be honest," Quatre answered. "Anyway, the point of me bringing that up is you can't go through that...several times without getting a good measure of a man."

"Yeah, you said he's better than he seems. And I'm taking your word on it. Apparently he's stuck into bed okay, too." Duo knew he was kind of feeling all over the place with it. "And I'm thinking of Maxwell church."

"He does too," Quatre said. "You need to ask him about it, but it is one of his worst nightmares." He sighed. "I know this is hard to believe, I would never have thought it but if you really get to know someone it is hard not to care about them. Like I do with all of you too. So, I know it looks strange. I started sleeping in his bed as my choice because his nightmares made both of us sleep badly."

"And he just... went with it." Duo quirked an eyebrow at him. "Hey, random enemy, come sleep in my bed?"

"It's not completely a one way street. He thinks I'm crazy sometimes, but he knows me. That I'm not the type to kill anyone in their sleep," Quatre tried to explain. He gave a little huff of amusement. "It's all pretty surreal now I've come to try and explain it. As far as I can tell, I experience a compulsion to help emotionally speaking if there are issues. I wasn't good at controlling them to begin with."

"Yeah or maybe he has a lot of fucking issues." He looked sideways toward the lightly closed bedroom door. "You say surreal, I say somewhere between stranger danger and really really gay."

Quatre actually laughed. "Okay, really really gay most likely. Like you're a fine one to talk, our resident pansexual. I'll have you know we have yet to go all the way, which as you'll realize after spending time with him puts me at the pinnacle of willpower."

"I heard rumors that he enjoyed rape and pillage. I certainly saw enough fire." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay. I'm gonna play nice, because the whole thing is weird as hell. What do I need to know to not make shit weird?"

"Um, that's a loaded question. Okay, well, look he is still suffering quite a lot of effects from nearly dying at the end of the Eve wars. A chronic concussion. It means he should be resting a lot and also he has some issues with reading at the moment. He basically doesn't get around to resting much and he should. He will inevitably hit on you at some point, because, well...yeah."

"OK general disaster man slut, first-degree, got it. What's up with the psychic friends club though. When he was conscious in the hospital you definitely felt better, what the hell is that about?"

"We're not sure, but all my adventures in his mind seemed to wake up something dormant he remembered being able to do when he was younger." Quatre answered. "He can rein people in a bit. When I saw you for the first time, my ability wanted to jump all over you and he pulled it in. The hospital - god, Duo, it's a bad place for me now if I'm the one injured. I can feel all the pain in the vicinity, the fear, the panic. When he was awake he was maintaining that buffer for me."

Duo leaned his elbows on his knees, eyeing Quatre as he chewed on the side of his thumb nail thoughtfully. "It's how he survived the assassination attempt, huh? And probably lots of them. Jesus. That's what he was laughing about when he and Noin came in the other night. He wasn't even in the room and he did that." And he'd obviously totally freaked himself out, laughing, a kind of nervous excited thing that definitely didn't fit mass murderer. Or maybe it did, what did Duo know? And Treize had been so openly weirdly proud of Quatre's plan, bright and excited, and sharp, which hadn't at all been the man Quatre has helped back into the suite, who'd been staring off into space. "Okay. I'm gonna get some coffee and tea and shit in, and then I'm going to get my clothes from the lovebirds suite. They weren't fucking when you were down there, were they?"

"I didn't see them, but no," Quatre answered. He looked a bit like he wanted to explain more but stopped, holding back. "I can't guarantee now though, I mean it's been at least thirty minutes." He smiled a little at that and he knew that was his friend trying to put him at ease and lighten the mood.

Which was weird, because it wasn't like he was the one who was in distress or... needed to be out at ease. He stood up, and gave a casual stretch. "All right. And if I mug the kitchens on my way back, what do you want? Hot food, cold food, intravenous line?"

Quatre chuckled. "Anything that looks good." He paused a moment. "Are you okay with all this, being here and everything Duo?"

Quatre was getting better, because his questions were more direct, to the point. Maybe he'd lobbed one right over home base in Treize's head, and that explained the mood. "I dunno. You're my friend, so that makes everything okay-er? The whole thing is pretty fucked up, we shouldn't be considered POWs. We've saved the world like twice now. So micro, yeah, I'm okay. Macro, nah?" He leaned in to scruff Quatre's hair.

"That's a good way of putting it," Quatre answered and yeah, he could feel something when he touched him. Just something grateful and happy and there sure as hell weren't that many people around who reacted like that to him. "If it makes any difference, I feel the same about that though I keep reminding myself I didn't do it for gratitude. But that doesn't stop me secretly feeling like it is unfair." 

"Uh-huh, I'm not keeping it a damn secret, it's super fucking unfair." He stepped away, heading the door. "I'll be back with snacks and my bag." He still had a key, so if they were fucking he could probably slink in and slink out and they'd never even know.

It was something to turn over in his head to amuse himself as he snuck off down the hallway.

There was a certain level of freedom he had now, not that the POW restriction had particularly stopped his habits of recon and information gathering. When he'd arrived with Noin, he'd been all over the palace in the first 24 hours, sneaking peeks at delegates, getting some information gathering stuff out there.

There was no reason to stop now; more reason to ramp it up a little, because Quatre _felt_ slighted and Khushrenada probably _was_ being actively slighted because he was an asshole. Quatre wasn't getting everything Duo could get, so the obvious solution was to go out and get info on his own. Starting with seeing how the Sanc folks were doing in the aftermath of all the crazy. He snuck around the building to where he knew Heero hung out.

Heero looked pretty much like if another young guard came and asked him another question he was going to do something 01 like and rip off the nearest iron bar, twist it into a pretzel and make the guy eat it. He also looked pretty at home in front of the bank of computers and camera feeds and monitors; just the glow of it made Duo relax. "Hey. You look pissed off."

"Duo." That was Heero's version of 'Hello Duo, good to see you' in his head at least. "What are you doing here?". Translation - 'So good of you to drop by, what a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?"

Hell, that was the subtext wasn't it? Something like that anyway.

"Bored, wandering around." He grinned at Heero, shrugged his shoulders. "I was gonna do a kitchen run for Quatre since he's kinda half burnt up and pretending he's super okay. You want a sandwich?"

There was a semi grunt that he was pretty sure meant yes. "Mm. Should you be wandering around so much? There are technically restrictions."

Eh, restrictions. They were just there to put them in their place and piss them off.

"OZ's first concern is the care and support of their soldiers and support staff." He mock saluted, and stood at fake attention. "Which means I'm not under a restriction, I'm on an errand. You want mustard on yours?"

"Yeah sure," Heero exhaled. "Duo, what are you really up to? Last time you were out my security teams picked up devices everywhere."

But only the ones he wanted them to find.

"Trying to figure out why our little group of allies are all fighting. If I'm gonna be a POW, while everyone works for peace, I'm not gonna let them self sabotage." He rubbed a hand at the back of his neck. "We can get our shit together and take on enemies with guns like whoa, super fast, but the enemies with words are fucking winning."

"Better send Trowa to sort them out."

Holy hell, that was nearly a joke. Obviously Heero was in a bit of a better mood than before the attack. He laughed and couldn't quite help grinning wildly at Heero. "He'll know how to make them quit." He bumped Heero's shoulder, still grinning. "I'll get you a sandwich. You can watch me on the screen, too."

"I will. But it never stops you doing things anyway." Heero answered and stopped typing for a moment. "How is Quatre doing?"

He'd managed to only visit him when their blond buddy was unconscious and Duo had a private bet with himself that it had been deliberate.

"Honestly kind of fucked up and feeling abandoned. Seriously, when the only person being nice to you in your life is the OZ General I'm pretty sure we all tried to kill..." Duo shrugged, hands tucked behind his head.

Heero's expression slipped into one of his masks and that was a fucking cop out. "I see. The only person?"

Well there was him, obviously but even he had to admit to some avoidance because of Treize, but Quatre gave everyone the goddamned benefit of the doubt and the fact he'd even mentioned about the others meant he'd probably reached his limit on the leeway he could find for them all.

"Yeah. Basically. I'm not gonna make retrospective excuses to make myself feel better, so yeah. The only one." He lifted his eyebrows at Heero, passed it back to him mask or no mask. "I'm trying now, but. I've been a shitass, too."

Heero turned and looked at him directly. "Relena's information indicated he had been compromised." He bet it had. Probably said he was sleeping with him and all that without considering the various options -- not least of which could have been that he was doing it against his will. Yeah okay, the actual explanation was a whole lot more weird and more, well, Quatre, but to write him off as compromised after everything he had done in the war, Jesus.

"Okay, without even getting into if any of it's actually consenting, because I think Khushrenada's a fucking whack job just like her brother and it plays perfectly to Quatre's weak spots, she's setting up a fucking government with the dude." Duo gestured vaguely at one of the screens where there were meetings taking place. "How does someone end up compromised by your ally?"

"When you are not sure if they are truly an ally," Heero replied. "OZ, and Treize in particular have a history of feints, and sleight of hand. The elimination for all the allied chiefs of staff for a start. But I admit I have seen no signs of it. Their conduct in the battle was..exemplary. "

High praise from Heero, who ditched his role and went to try and rescue Relena by all accounts.

Which was cool, the world needed Relena. Had to be done, absolutely needed for the ground, etc. "Makes him even more of a fucking war hero. Dude went space walking without a fucking suit, which is amazing." Duo tilted his head side to side, exhaling hard. "If he's got a plan up his sleeve or a sleight of hand, I'll find it. I mean, I'll. I'll get Quatre out of whatever shit he's in and I'll find out what's going on."

He nodded at that pronouncement. "Quatre's plan is the only thing keeping people at the table," Heero said. "We need him to be functional as soon as possible."

"It's a good plan. Khushrenada was small child at Christmas with an orange pleased with the plan. So, take that for your sleight of hand pile." He exhaled again. "God dammit. Allright. Food run, and maybe I can get Quatre out and around with people tomorrow. Anything else you want me to have my feelers out for?"

"L3. Their power structure is volatile now and unknown." Heero said. "And anything on Merquise."

"His dick's about six inches soft, and I don't know if he's a show-er or a grower." Duo deadpanned it, pulling a face. "It was traumatic. L3, and Merquise, got it. Cool." 

"Grower," Heero said equally deadpan. "If Noin's texts are to be believed. Don't get in trouble."

"Man, now I'm gonna have that in my head all night." He slunk off, waving a bright hello to one of the guards as he passed them in the hallway. The OZ uniform fucked with them, because all the lts were bright and tidy and he was purposefully making a hash of it. To the point that Treize had tried to correct his uniform jacket, buttoning it up for him like he was a little cadet.

Sleight of hand, sleight of hand. He pondered it, while he wandered to the kitchen, assembling a couple of sandwiches, a tray to leave with Quatre because he ate fruit and crackers and snacked more than he'd go at a sandwich. One day, Duo was gonna bring him a bowl of birdseed.

What sleight of hand did General disaster area have in the wings? There was no way he didn't have some grand plan, something he hadn't even shared with his supposedly compromised POW. Did he want to seize control of the planet again? He'd... his public stature was huge. He'd confronted an assassin on live tv, calm and cool as anything when really, someone could've just blown the little girl away, easy. It had happened a hundred times on tv already, in life, life was cheap on the colonies. So, messaging and sleights of hand. What message was Khushrenada signaling -- and did they need to watch the signal or what wasn't being signaled?

He needed to start drinking to figure it out. On his rounds back, he left a sandwich for Heero on his desk without comment, and then circled back to stick his head in to see if Quatre was up and wanted snacks.

He was -- a little predictably -- lying on the bed next to the napping Treize but busy with his datapad. As soon as he saw Duo was back, he came out into the living area in a sort of slow motion effort. He needed to get some data on that last battle, see what actually happened.

All he knew were the highlights, the big plot points; Sandrock and Epyon had attacked the mobile doll base and disarmed the lasers; Epyon had been disabled, and Khushrenada had gone space walking. Sandrock had fought all the way back to earth on a hard booster the whole time, and rejoined the last stand, before crashing out. Before all of that, he'd helped them fight off the onslaught at earth, and Quatre had been fucking good. He was a great pilot.

"How jacked up are you right now?" Duo asked quietly, setting the tray on the big table in the room. "For real."

"I try not to take too many." Quatre was quiet as he spoke. "I can cope with pain better than not being able to control emotions. Not like the hospital."

"Okay, so better question is how jacked up should you be, for what injuries?" He'd crashed and... crashes sucked, crashes killed lots of mech pilots, and he didn't think two people in one cockpit involved good harness technique. Duo fussed for a minute, pouring himself a coffee while standing up, nudging some of the snacky bits to Quatre.

"Um.." Quatre looked at him a moment and seemed unable to explain in words so he carefully slipped off his top and it looked like he'd taken most of the bandages off to wash or something because there was only light dressing on some areas and it was enough to put him off his lunch. "Easier than explaining," Quatre said, taking some of the food.

Holy hell, what even had caused some of that? There were weird frondlike patterns down his right side and back, bruises that were doing some form of rainbow protest everywhere - had a few of them himself, and deep looking cuts or something. That and the still livid mess of fresh scars on his left side.

Each one on it's own was probably not too bad, but all together?

Duo hissed, reaching out to touch the weird frond burns, and stopping short when his brain reminded him burns. "What the hell happened to Sandrock's electrics? Jesus."

Quatre seemed very calm as he munched on the crackers. "When we were flying to disable the laser battery guns on Vulkanis, Sandrock was acting as a shield to Epyon. Took too many direct hits and shattered the force shield and it backlashed up and into the cockpit. It's sort of like lightning looking but it's healing pretty well."

"Yeah, you took an electrical hit." Duo poured tea for him, and then slid that over as well. "Wow. You should sleep. Or catch up on mails and sleep. That shit can cook you inside, no wonder they kept you in the hospital until this morning."

"I heal quickly," Quatre replied. "I'm okay, it just, you know. Sometimes I find it difficult to control my reactions." He slipped his top back on carefully. "And I bet you're sitting there with post battle bruising and cuts at the least."

"Yeah, but Deathscythe actually landed back in the bay where it belongs, and I walked away. On my own feet. Bruises heal, no scars. I think they just got Sandrock out of the hill yesterday, and it's gonna take some work to get him back together." Duo rubbed fingers at the edge of his mouth, and took a sip of his coffee, peering into the darkened bedroom past the sitting area for a second. "I don't know if I would've shielded Epyon. It was a solid machine, the job still would've gotten done."

"No." Quatre seemed very certain of that. "The probabilities were against us. Without me doing that, the best case scenario had Treize dying to accomplish it and complete destruction of Epyon. "

Probabilities. That was fucking Zero talk right there.

"You took Zero out of Sandrock," he said carefully, watching Quatre's reaction.

"I told you I fully linked to Treize in the battle," he said. "Epyon was using Zero. Treize was running it the whole time -- to be able to battle all those enemies after I sent you to back up Wufei, we had to use Zero. I...hijacked his brain?"

He knew he was making a face. He knew it, he could feel his cheeks crunch up in a grimace, because what the fuck. What the fucking fuck. 

"So. Khushrenada was using Epyon. In Zero mode, which was why he was a killing machine out there, got that. Cool. Then you... and this is where I go fuzzy. You have some brain link thing with general disaster area manwhore. And you used Zero through him. While he used it, you just got in there and used it, too. Through his brain." Holy shit. Holy shit. "And it didn't drive you crazy or Khushrenada crazy, because all I saw was great piloting the whole time. Like no crazy. And he's got a concussion?" 

"Well, I was balancing his concussion and Epyon's version of Zero is smoother and he is well practiced in using it," Quatre said giving that lopsided shrug that made more sense now he had seen what was under the shirt. "It... wasn't easy to do Duo, I don't want to give you the impression it was something I did casually and I didn't even get to ask him, but it gave me access to the same information so we could protect Earth."

"Did he know you were doing it?" Duo was thinking retribution and revenge and holy shit. Because Khushrenada was a sharp spiteful motherfucker under that chill smile.

"Well, when I did it, yes. He allowed it," Quatre said. "It's difficult to describe. He can damp things down for me, but I know I could break it if I had to, but in breaking it I would cause a lot of damage. It's the same the other way around I think. It's...complicated. Believe me, I lived a bit in fear when I first accidentally invaded his mind."

Duo picked at his sandwich. "You were pretty shaken up when you talked about that on the vid call, yeah. So you can't just..." He waved a hand. "Get in there and do what you want unless he's cool with it."

"I try not to do anything without consent," Quatre said patiently. "I'm better at controlling it now. Practice I guess. Not everyone pulls at me like he does or...you guys do."

"Hmn. Okay. So you should definitely still be resting, and I'm not done yet. Still gotta retrieve my stuff." And see who else he could talk to and what other capture devices he could lay out, and and. And. He took a moment to chew his sandwich. "All this tells me is I gotta watch out for you, in case you're paying attention to crazy things I can't see and there's a physical threat you're not noticing."

"It wouldn't be the first time," Quatre answered with a smile. "Thank you for getting the food though, it helps."

Getting food was nothing, but apparently, Quatre often forgot about it.

"I'll do it again at dinner. Least I can do." And it would give him a reason to be out and about. He finished off his coffee in a swig, and waved to Quatre before stepping outside for part two. Heero had given him a lot to think about as he walked toward Noin's suite, and so had Quatre.

So the guy was trusting Quatre, or seeming to. And maybe his sleight of hand was that he'd known all along what he could do, like Quatre's spaceheart stuff, and he was suckering Quatre in so he'd...

Join forces with him to take over ESUN? Yeah. Maybe he'd leave the sorting out what the sleight of hand was to other people because when kept trying and kept coming up with crazy things that led to shit the dude had already done twice. He didn't need Quatre's skills to do any of it. What did Quatre specifically add to the equation? 

He wasn't sure if the weird shit was something planned at all because he'd not even known about it, so maybe not that. Quatre was a strategic guy, like scary good. If he thought back to the attack, Quatre had been insistent on getting them where they needed to be position wise, he'd called all the damn moves, responded and hit point after point, flexed when one of them decided they knew better. Now he thought about it, Quatre had run that battle not Khushrenada. And the plan, that was a big thing to bring to the table. Did they want him for that? Zechs had kept targeting him in battles and Quatre had said he thought it was because he thought he was the weakest which was a load of horseshit.

Maybe Khushrenada wanted a pocket strategist, and getting Quatre roped in by any means necessary was the main plan. This meant, in true bullshit sleight of hand New Edwards fashion, they were playing into it. Us against them, them against Quatre and Khushrenada, backs against the wall, in it together, maybe, and bam, pocket strategist. A long term win, and he was clearly fucking him. So twice the win.

Merquise was dead, and back and leaving again, but Quatre was twice the pilot, twice the calm brilliant worker.

He couldn't allow them to win at the isolation; didn't need to be a trained observer to figure out it was when Quatre was left alone without any of them he went off the rails when the colonies killed his father. He needed to figure out how to reconnect them properly and work out what the hell Trowa and Wufei were doing as well, because if Quatre had admitted to having a weird reaction that must have been amazingly weird.

He tucked it into the back of his mind as he knocked on the door to Noin's suite, and waited. Yeah, that two of them huddled together in a dark room shit was gonna stop, and Quatre was gonna get lots of people in his life again. Not just whatever Khushrenada was feeding him.

Noin answered the door and he knew her well enough to know she was bothered about something, "Thought you had a key Duo?" she said as she stepped back.

"I do, I just didn't wanna see the little helmet head a second time. Knocking is polite." He grinned at her. "Just getting my shit, okay? And then I'll be out of your hair."

"No wait, Duo, you don't have to leave," Noin said hurriedly. "Dammit I've screwed this right up. Treize was right to be angry. Well, aggressively calm."

Duo snorted. "That's a new one to me. Aggressively calm, I'm gonna use that one." He stepped in, and stopped pretty close to the door to his little bedroom and bathroom area. Quatre and Khushrenada had definitely gotten bigger digs, which was what made the whole Merquise there thing super awkward. "It's cool, I get it."

"I'm glad you do, because right now I don't," Noin said. "I don't know what I should do now."

"What do you want to do?" He could hear a shower running, so he didn't have to ask where Merquise was; he was just grateful to not have to deal with him. "Just, forget should. What do you want to do with your life?"

"I want to be with Zechs, but I want to make sure this peace holds," she said. "I just don't know how to do both."

It was pretty obvious to Duo. Zechs would have to suck it up and help Noin, or they would have to wait to be together.

He sighed, and scrubbed a hand at the back of his head, pulling at his braid thoughtfully for a moment. "You could... leave after the election. Wild idea. Work together, drag blondie back into it for a couple of months, then go run away together."

"I don't know if Zechs would.." She glanced towards the shower. He got it, he really did. She'd thought she'd lost him and didn't want to risk losing him if he said no to anything suggested so she probably hadn't asked. Who said Quatre was the king of this emotion shit?

"Ask?" He shrugged his shoulders. "I mean if you change your mind and go sooner rather than later, at least you tried. And if he says no, then take off for Mars. Or not. Then it's do one not both."

"I..guess." It had given her pause for thought at least. "It's worth a shot." So maybe he'd shifted the problem. Not bad. He could get his stuff, and get out of here.

"Can't hurt. So, I'm grabbing my stuff and going, because Quatre's room is as big as this whole suite, and I don't have to hear anything." He gestured again to the room. He could hear the water in the bathroom stop.

"Okay," Noin said. "Everything is okay there, right?" He wasn't sure if he was asking about Treize or Quatre.

Duo waved a hand side to side, and ducked into the room, leaving the door open while he snagged his duffel bag. "You gotta be more specific than that."

"Treize. He's okay about it?" She asked awkwardly and yeah, she was worried about him. Who knew? The man did inspire loyalty.

"Yeah. I guess?" And weirdly it felt like giving the game away to say a single word more, and that was a damn weird feeling, he decided, putting his clothes and spare boots and civvies away quickly. "We sort of talked about it this morning and he's okay with it."

She nodded a little. "Thanks...maybe I'll see him when things have settled a little."

"Yeah. I think the fancy piloting left him..." He shrugged his shoulders, grabbing his own datapad and ducking into the bathroom to grab his brush. "He's a character."

There, that was everything.

"I'd pay money to see him deal with you," Noin said, a little better humoured. "You'll drive him crazy."

"You're not gonna have to pay money, if you come around to say hi tomorrow. It'll be free." He shouldered his duffle, just as blondie came out of the room, wearing a shirt and trousers that reminded Duo of his White Fang uniform.

Probably best not to mention that, but then he did say he didn't have much clothing on Earth. Relena would see to it, though.

"Moving out Maxwell?" Zechs asked casually though he was damn sure some of the vocal performances had been aimed at that, getting him out.

"Yeah. Gonna go sack out with Quatre. General disaster area is okay with having an extra aide-de-camp or whatever he's got Quatre doing." Merquise was gonna be hard to get useful intel on, harder than talking to Heero.

"Send him my regards," he said, which, wow, that wasn't going to be awkward at all.

"Yeah, will do. You two just need to have a fistfight in the hallway already. Get that shit out of your systems." Duo lifted his eyebrows at him, and then waved to Noin as he pulled the door open. "See you guys tomorrow."

He was glad to be out of there because the tension was thick enough to slice with big tall and blond hanging around. One change and everyone lost their shit. Time to get this back - having this level of freedom was good.

He liked it. He guessed Quatre had it, too, for all that he'd never seemed to use it. Maybe. It made him wonder about the isolation thing he’d raised with Heero, something to think about as he headed back up to the room for at least a while.


End file.
